


Poisonous Shot

by ColonelOfSpades, Storm_HD



Series: A TOAST TO VENOM AND INTEGRITY [1]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Biting, F/M, Heterosexual Sex, Marking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-03
Updated: 2017-08-03
Packaged: 2018-12-10 17:02:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,257
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11696037
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ColonelOfSpades/pseuds/ColonelOfSpades, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Storm_HD/pseuds/Storm_HD
Summary: After weeks, months of playing a twisted cat and mouse game, Widowmaker and Soldier76 decide to explore what it is they seek out in each other.- This is a transcript of a Discord RP between Violentretirement and myself-





	Poisonous Shot

**Widowmaker:** She had caught a glimpse of his visor in the darkness, going around a wall, seeking cover. Widowmaker chuckled, and openly followed him, not even bothering to hide her presence. Her heels clanked on the floor, a snicker, rifle hoisted on her shoulder and she whistled.

"Oh cherie, come out come out wherever you are.... come play with the spider..."

 

 **Soldier76:**  He thought he'd lost her a block or two ago. Trouble him for his ego. She was a far more effective hunter. It was a huntress versus a dog- he brute force and she more wit and guile than he could have mustered even in days past. He doesn't reveal himself yet, but he's sure she knows.

"Depends on what games the spider wants to play." On the roof, red peeking down at her. "Alright. And what does the spider want?"

 

 **Widowmaker:** "Come play with me....", nails scraping against the brick, tick tock, tick tock, those heels clanking over the roof top. "Come on, Jack, mon amour, what is it you want me to say, hmmm?" Widowmaker chuckled a bit, her rifle reloaded, the sound of the action cycling in the night air.

What was it he wanted from her? Had he not understood? She followed him, trailed him, night after night, watched him, sometimes lending a stray shot to his aid, helping him succeed whenever he was in a tight spot.

"Did you think you had been lucky all this time, hmmm? That there is a God watching over you? Non, cherie...your help from above has always been a sniper on the roof." 

 

 **Soldier76:** Deep breaths. He grinds his teeth at the thought. He knew something was up, but the thought of it being her to watch over him... he didn't know if it was unnerving or pleasing. He listens, still, remaining hidden. There's nothing he can do that won't alert her attention, and does he really want to run now that she seems willing to speak? Not really.

"Your flattery knows no bounds. I take it you want something in return?" Not as gruff as he wished to be. He didn't distrust her as much as he should given recent events. There's a shift, and he moves into the open, rifle pointed down. The red of his visor watches her.

"Alright."

  

 **Widowmaker:** "Flattery? You are mistaking, mon cher. I am bragging, if anything, but not flatering you.", she laughed a bit, head snapping in his direction, focused on him with intent. "Tres bien, we wil be civilized tonight.", her own rifle while not pointed down, is showing no threat to him.The woman walked up to him, close- too close perhaps - so much so that she could smell him - leather, gun smoke, gun powder and dust - head tilted to the side while watching him.

"Maybe, I just want a friend... someone to help me pass the time. You see, cherie, Sombra has taught me it is important to have friends. Especially the kind that refuse to die.", she allowed her index finger to trace over his chest, hooking against his jacket as she finally looked up at him.

"Will you be mon ami?"

  

 **Soldier76:** He watched her, trying to calculate her next move. If she'd wanted to kill him she would have, and if Talon wanted him for whatever reason they would have gotten him already. No, it seems genuine and perhaps that's what concerns him most. He frowns behind the visor as she moves in close. Pride keeps him rooted, the notion of not being intimidated or giving up ground. He was a hell of a lot bigger but even so, the situation wasn't in his hands yet.

"You've been chasin me to hell and back for a 'friend'?" Then again, both of them were in short supply of companions. Though, he was glad he had the visor. Red cheeks would have been more telling than a metal poker face. Even if it was dark.

"Fine." It's not as resigned as it should be. As though he is giving up a conversation about food, not being sweet talked by a world renown sniper.

  

 **Widowmaker:** "A friend can be a very important thing, Cherie.", the Widow purred as that index finger hooked under his visor and with her thumb she pulled his head down a little. "A friend can have certain...benefits. Non?" Widowmaker smiled, only a little when he agreed to be her friend. He was out here all alone, no mission, doing his little vigilante shit. He had to hold up somewhere.

"Why don't you ask me over for a drink. Before some of my friends find us out here. Especially those friends we both thought were  _dead_." Truth be told, the last thing she wanted was for Reaper to run into Jack and vice versa. Also, she had no intention in discussing with a council member why she was chasing his ex love interest. Better leave that topic as dead as the wraith himself.

"I'm all about a menaje a trois, but that one might prove deadly, you know?"

  

 **Soldier76:**  There's a noncommittal grunt as her fingers take hold of the mask and his head follows the motion. He's considering his options, not to mention the repercussions. As she spoke, he wondered if she was just trying to locate his hideout. Not like much was there save a bit of what he'd stolen or found on his own.

"If you want to come to my base, you're... welcome to." Years of being on his own left him... unacquainted with old social graces, but even those might have been forgotten in the light of the odd situation. He'd been out for hours now, almost a full night. Going back to his fixed up "base" sounded like a good thing right now.

It would take them nearly an hour of back streets and quick moving to get back to the spot. It was part of an old Overwatch base. The interior had been cleaned out and fixed, 'borrowed' electricity lighting it up when Jack entered. A running fridge held meat, cheese, bread, a bottle of wine, and a bottle of whiskey. There was a makeshift sleeping area, and a large table set up with tools and a laptop. A duffle bag marked "Morrison" lay crumpled in a corner. Overall, the space was clean, lit enough, and comfortable for the extended stay. At least for a soldier used to concrete beds and hovels to hide in. His pulse rifle was set aside, but the pistol remained attached to his thigh.

"So what exactly is your game?"

  

 **Widowmaker:** That was not as hard as she expected it to be. Thank god. Widowmaker nodded in agreement, and before she knew it, they were heading back to an oddly familiar place. It was as if part of her remembered it.

 "I...used to come here didn't I ? Brought you things..." The sniper did the same, her rifle left on the table next to his, and now, her back to him, she walked around the room quietly, looking around as if this was some trip to a world long forgotten.

When he spoke, the woman turned her head enough to look over her shoulder at him. "No game." Amelie removed her visor and tossed it carelessly on the edge of the bed. It was the closest thing to her. "You used to enjoy my company, you have to remember non? That is why you didn't kill me that day, isn't it?", finally she turned to look at him, a hand extended to the soldier, beckoning him closer.

"Vien Ici"

 

 **Soldier76:** He made a face as she moved, rooted for a moment. He did remember those times. She or others would bring him something to eat, company for a while, perhaps just supplies he was running low on when he was working too hard. He always appreciated the thought, and he frowned behind the mask at the memory.

The visor clicked, and it took a few moments of removing gloves and reaching to unlatch the metal from his face. The holder came with it, the skin of his ears and neck thankful for being uncovered. It felt odd without the mask, as it had become such a part of him over the years. He still felt like he was being played somehow. Perhaps that was paranoia.

"Yeah, I remember," the admission is almost hesitant, and he's still thinking, watching. 

But he finally moves, taking her hand and marveling at how small it felt in his own. "Yeah," he concedes finally. "Both of us got robbed." Maybe that was explanation enough, but there's a motion, Jack bringing her hand to press his lips to the back of her knuckles.

 

 **Widowmaker:** She took hold of him, fingers intertwined with his, pulling him closer to her, watching him, gold meeting almost surreal blue. Somewhere inside, she missed that color, missed those eyes. There was something about them that had always fascinated her. Never had the woman seen eyes like his. 

Amelie expected sass, expected anger, but did not expect the kiss to her knuckles. That shock was not held back. It was so obvious on her face, the way lips parted to speak something, but words got strangled in her throat and never made it out. A skip of her heart, she felt it, felt it acutely even. It was scary in itself.

"Robbed, killed, hurt...", a step, two steps closer, chest pressed up against his, hand still holding his, now trapped between the swell of her breasts and his armor "I want to feel again, Jack...I want to have more than just the kill. Sure, I want to see Overwatch gone, wiped from this earth for what they did to me, to you, my husband, Gabriel...everything they touch turns to shit. Merde...they took the best of what we were, and turned us into monsters... Make me feel again, Jack...je t'en prie."

 

 **Soldier76:** It was odd to see her like this. And odd to feel or understand anything about her after she'd been kidnapped and changed. He himself couldn't explain why of all things he'd brought a Talon agent back to his hideout- sure she had been tailing him for a while, an odd cat and mouse game of finding each other on the battlefield either when he was with or without Overwatch.

Here... He listened, agreeing in the very least that Overwatch had ruined them in a personal way. Neither could get back what was destroyed or lost. Would it be worth it? He never wanted the pedestal back, couldn't imagine taking up the role as an organization's sole figurehead again. The scarred face, lined with age was enough to ward off most that might guess to his identity. That he was thankful for. But here, he didn't know what he felt or wanted. She had no emotions to show him, and he wondered if he was being played. If it was a new tactic, or if that was just his paranoid mind rejecting solace.

So, when he leaned forward to kiss her, a hand curled lightly behind her neck, it was just as much a surprise to him.

 

 **Widowmaker:**  Widowmaker asked for emotion, and Amelie begged for death - that is how the two of them played inside her mind, whatever was left of it. 

The woman wanted to feel again, feel something more than the warmth inside her the moment she pulled the trigger. It reminded her of the moment she killed Gerard, over and over, and over again, that memory of how her body felt warm and alive while whatever was left of Amelie fought from the depths of her mind to try and stop the murderer from completing her task. Never did that little voice cry louder, and then the silence was deafening. In a way, she asked Gabriel the same thing. Begged for the same relief, the release from this prison. She sought him out after a mission in what was a desperate attempt to try and get close, to see if there was anything inside her that was still alive. What appeared to start off as a moment of peace and release for them, turned into hatred and rejection, Reaper furious at her and himself, barely holding himself from slaughtering her right there, demanding she get out of his sight. 

At that point, she was happy she couldn't feel anything. Amelie would have been devastated by that. Widowmaker was simply confused. It was not unusual for many to recoil under her touch. She never thought Reaper would be one of them.

Her breath was stolen from her chest, one hand holding on to his, the other gripping at his jacket, lips seeking out his in what seemed like absolute starvation. Eyes closed, body melted against his, the sniper was a content little thing in his embrace. Her mind raced, a billion questions, a billion things that could go wrong, that  _should_  go wrong. Why him, why now? What brought her here? He tasted sweet, surprisingly so, and the scent of him intoxicated her senses. She felt as if she was drugged, a flurry of memories flooding her at once. 

"Jack...", a whisper only, the kiss broken, her looking away, head lowered, but making no move to step away from him. "You haven't changed, cherie.", she knew he would be confused. Amelie looked at him, from somewhere in there, she found the strength to snuff Widowmaker out, maybe for a moment. 

"I ask you to kill me, and what do you do? You kiss me..."

**Soldier76:**  In that he had expected to decide to kiss her, he hadn't expected her doubly so to return it. Certainly it had been a long time since he'd been even faintly regarded with kindness, save the helpful information from a distant temporary ally. But to hold someone, his arm slipping behind her as her weight drifted against him- that was new. Even in the days of being the all-too-imperious Strike-Commander Morrison, his contact with others was normally handshakes, light shoulder-to-shoulder hugs, a gentle hand from Ana or Reinhardt on his shoulder. Hugs from Reinhardt as well, but in the years leading up to his death even those had been fewer. 

Her voice is light, and he listens, mind unsure of what to do next. One attracted to people regardless of gender made it so that Jack found many people attractive, and that didn't exclude those married to operatives. Never, however, had he considered moving on that or abusing his position to make any advances- usually shown by the lack of interest he provided to relationships in general. Tabloids guessed, and online shows wondered but he remained single even when political alliances showed up. But here, he wondered what the moral ramifications were given their... delicate situation.

His eyes meet hers and he's unsure what to take of her words. Reading people is something he knows he's good at, but Widowmaker is a woman who is difficult to read.

"Don't have the right words otherwise." There's more of a hunger in the second kiss, searching for... something even he doesn't know. Curiosity, pressing against her- the thrill of their separate dangers and that of being close to someone for the first time in a while, even if mostly in the physical sense.

 

 **Widowmaker:** "Then we stop speaking.", she gave up on trying to understand what all was going on. 

Her hands fumbled with his jacket, and whatever harness he had on. A sigh of frustration, pulling at the damn leather, as it seemed unmovable. Her lips moved from his to nip at his jaw, down his neck, biting into the flesh, pressing up against him as she whispered sweet little nothings, half in french, half in english. Finally, she gave up on the jacket and just pulled at his pants, trying to undo them, to get something, anything, to get him to take over her, or her take over him.

"Jack, please. Either fuck me or kill me, mon dieu, this is torture."

 

 **Soldier76:** At first he had every intention of helping her, but truthfully the fitful way she attempted to remove his gear was more entertaining- breaking his mind from the sincere way it twisted around the situation. He was always secured in his combat gear- intent on keeping slippery handed thieves from slipping things from his pockets. But here it was an... unexpected hindrance. He shifted, the leather jacket removed first along with the pistol harness that carried ammo, the belts that carried canisters and his combat knives, the thigh harness with his pistol and finally, he tugged the tight Kevlar over his head. 

He couldn't help the smirk on his lips at her words. He didn't understand French, but he knew that one.

"First one." He replies.

As much as he's bared with only pants and the boots he's shucking off, he wonders how she can run around in an equivalent state of dress. He guesses Talon has something high tech invested in the suit, but says nothing as larger hands move to attempt to slip the top of the bodysuit off, his lips on her neck and tasting the chilled skin. He shifts, lifting her with ease and moving her back to the bed, laying her down to lean over her as his lips move from her jaw to her neck and collarbone, exploring. He wondered what it felt like with her body the way it was, but he said nothing, hands attempting to help peel her out of the suit further.

 

 **Widowmaker:**  "First works..." As he began removing his own armor, she shifted a bit enough to where she could remove her gauntlets, as well as kicking off her boots. It didn’t take him that long before he was back on her, hands over her body, picking her up as if she weighed nothing. Amelie wrapped her arms around his neck, legs wrapped around his now naked waist. Her lips were back on his, nipping at them, licking at his lips, his mouth.

"Hah, much better now...Ahh mon dieu yes...", she purred at his touch, his kisses and perfect exploration. "Here...", she pulled at her suit, a wave of electricity flowing through her suit, allowing it to be more flexible, like cloth.

Her hands moved to her top, pulling it aside, exposing herself to him, shrugging her shoulders to get out of that damn thing. Amelie pushed it down around her waist, a clear idea of where it needed to go. Her hips pressed up against him, thighs parted to frame his waist, her hands tracing down his arms, claw marks left in their wake.

"I am not a little flower. Don't treat me like one."

**Soldier76:** There is a low hum in reply, a growl beneath it as was in all his vocalizations. His hands finish what she started on his pants, removing them and the underarmor boxers before he helped her out of the rest of the clinging suit. He was all too aware of how long it had been, and he was hungry to fix that, given her encouragement.

Previously occupied hands moved down between her thighs, massaging the muscles of her abdomen and legs as his mouth continued to search and explore. Lips sealed over the arch of her breast as a digit slipped inside her, joined by a second a moment later to tease, his thumb gently brushing over the sensitive bud of her clit. His other arm remained wrapped around her, cock heavy against her thigh as his fingers continued to press deep into her.

"Noted." There's a wry grin as his fingers pull away with a slick noise, soon followed by the thick length of his cock. His mouth finds her neck again as he slowly thrusts into her, a bit of eagerness perhaps behind the quick movements.

 

 **Widowmaker:**  She writhed under him, squirmed and cried out the moment he found her slit, fingers inserted in her without warning. One, two of them, stretching her, making her head spin, eyes seeing stars from the sensation alone. To her, this was new all over again. Hips jolted upwards against his invading touch, whimpering, gasping for air.

"AH! F-fuck!!!", she pushed down against him, her hips rising to meet his cock as it invaded her. "J-jack... wait... wait... ah fuck...un momen', mon cher... too big!" Amelie held on to him, clinging to the man as if her life depended on it, ice cold body clinging to his, her breath ragged, and her mind blurred. There was a mix between pleasure and pain, the tightness of her evident. Untouched in so long, unaware of how her body would react to any of this.

"So good...so... haaa....god..."

**Soldier76:** Jack would have admitted to the eager quick motions, adjusting to the odd sensation. There was the knowledge about what he was 'supposed' to feel- the heat from another body that was absent being the main thing. The feeling was odd but not unwanted. His lips pressed against her jaw and cheek, moving against her neck as he remained still to allow her to adjust. Keeping her words from before in mind, he would watch her actions and listen, his hands moving over her hips. Finger kneaded softly, and perhaps there was an unspoken apology despite her murmurings.

The way her arms and legs clung to him was encouraging, but he moved slow, shifting his arms and legs and only moving his hips when her legs relaxed some. His lips moved, catching hers and teeth nipping at her lower lip.

"Tell me what you need." His voice is low, a husky tinge to it as his mouth moves to press against the shell of her ear.

 

 **Widowmaker:** He was easier to handle now, better, she felt more at ease, felt more like herself now, her core warming up, the friction adding to the sensation. Amelie smiled at him, her body relaxing with his movements, hips rising each time to meet his thrusts, welcoming him in the depths of her body. She wondered if he found her repulsive and just didn't want to stop now. The difference in temperature was addicting. Amelie loved the warmth of him, wanted more of it, needed it.

"I need you, Jack... now.. every day... I need... I need to feel. I want to feel." Fingers threaded through his hair, her legs wrapped around his waist, moans louder, harder, breathing shallow and abrupt as he thrust inside her. God she loved it so much. Her little cry echoed in the room, her muscles gripped him, rolling over his like waves against the shore. "Morrison please. Please make me feel.. I'm alright, I'm good... I'm... do as you please..."

**Soldier76:** He starts slow, feeling her tense and move around him. The fact that he can feel something from her warm, as though coming to life, was an interesting feeling in itself. Then again, to think of that in a similar way would be rather... concerning. But his mind focuses instead on the way she moves, the noises she makes as she presses against him, holds him to her. Thrusts are echoed by heavier breathing, little grunts and small staccato moans escaping his lips before he catches hers in a heated kiss. 

There was something there, a remembered feeling and desire he'd always had and buried before. That notion of finding her attractive but holding back for the sake of respecting her and her union. In a way he was entirely selfish thinking about it, but the way she whined and curled against him were impossible to ignore and he was just fine acknowledging he wanted more. 

The arm wrapped around her shifts, hand splayed across her lower back as the other hand ran across the smooth skin of her thigh. Teeth and lips break away to once more tease and mark the skin of her neck and shoulder. His hand moved up her thigh and back up to the heat of her slit, thumb toying once more with the little sensitive node of her clit as his hips continued to work. Quick and sharp noises of skin against skin echoed in the small room accompanied by the low voices of the two. Heat built within him, but he held it off, wanting to hold onto the closeness of her legs wrapped around him and the heat between them.

**Widowmaker:**  He sounded so good against her, inside her, the union of their bodies the only melody ringing in her ears. Amelie tilted her head to the side, willingly exposing throat and shoulder to him, let him bite and mark and claim. The moment he found his way back to her slit, toying with her clit, she jolted upwards with a pleading mewl leaving those lips.

"So close...harder...ah so good. So fucking good!", she cried out before her lips found his and drowned in the taste of him.

One hand moved to grab his ass, nails digging into the firm flesh, the other hand slipped behind his head and pulled him securely against her mouth. All she wanted was to devour. Chase this feeling until it spilled over her. In a moment she stilled- like the calm before the storm there was silence and almost as if her body locked up. Her eyes went wide as electricity rushed through her, looked at him in mild confusion before those lips parted and she screamed her release. Her back arched, her muscles tensed around his cock, then rolled over him violently as they milked the length of him. Her entire body trembled, and nails dug into his shoulders while the sniper rode out her overwhelming orgasm.

She was hot, from the inside out, eyes glowing, face flushed as her heart sped up the blood flow. Felt dizzy, overwhelmed and shivered under him while holding on to the man for dear life. "Ah mon dieu! Jack! Don't stop... ah don't. Don't..."

**Soldier76:** He followed that, encouraged by her voice as he moved quicker, body hard and quick. The muscles of his arms and stomach worked, rippling and shifting around her as he continued to press deeply into her. He returned her kiss, low and deep noises against her lips.

When her body stilled, clinging to him like a last hope, he leaned into her, pausing just a moment until her voice encouraged him. He continued to fuck into her through the intense orgasm, letting her walls cling and riding through the waves of clenched muscles.

It wouldn't be a few moments later when he would follow suit. But it was so entirely focused on her, lips still against hers as he finally pulled his hips back and left her. Streaks of white painted her skin around her thighs as his orgasm followed with a low, tumbling cry. He would remain resting against her a long moment, catching his breath.

 

 **Widowmaker:**  She held on to him, the scent of them mixed together filling the room. Amelie closed her eyes while holding the man against her chest. Fingers slipped to thread through his hair, breath shallow and soft. For a while she didn't say a word. Just listened.

"So this is what it feels like..." There were experiences before. Angela and Sombra in her arms, nights spent with the two of them, but never something like this. This was new all over again. 

"I know, I need to go."

**Soldier76:**  He remained around her, breathing, experiencing, allowing himself to  _feel_  the moment. It was odd, something like this amongst the personal war he'd been raging for years. He liked it. He wanted more of it. She spoke and blue eyes rose to watch her again- almost a smile on his lips before he frowned. 

"Go?" He didn't like how he sounded.... upset. Was it so terrible to wish her to stay? Perhaps.

But he shifts, leaning up to take one of the clean rags normally reserved for cleaning the pulse rifle and wiped them both off. And then he made another selfish decision. He was tired, and perhaps the notion of not having to spend the millionth night alone was too tempting. He moved, bringing her with him, and tugged a blanket over them. It was no high end comforter, but it did its job. And he remained curled with her. A yawn overtook him as he kept her close to him, sighing deeply and breathing in the moment. His arms held her snugly, her smaller form pulled against his chest as he let his mouth and nose rest gently against her hair.

"In the morning, if you really want to." He offered after a moment, the steel of his muscles, even when relaxed, keeping her with him.

 

 **Widowmaker:**  "Oui, go. To what purpose should I ..." she never finished that question. Amelie watched him in confusion and amazement. He was taking care of her, and of himself. As he wiped them down, she just laid there and observed, her hand stopped somewhere half way between wanting to do something, and letting him work. He pulled her along, that burning warmth of him like a flame that drew the spider in. 

She felt small. So small against him. Her entire body was warm right now, between his embrace, the scent of him everywhere, and the soft blanket. Tentatively, she laid her hands on him, fingers curling about to grip and hold close. Her body gave a little wiggle as she settled in with the soldier. His words seemed so foreign, just like this entire situation. In the morning.

"In the morning...", a whisper before she wiggled her way even closer, and for once, closed her eyes without worry. He was everywhere around her, a veritable armor, an embrace that offered more to the cold sniper than any kill. In the morning... 

 

 **Soldier76:** Jack remained, glad the gamble paid off. She would remain, and not complain. He wondered as his tired mind drifted, if they'd have more times like this- perhaps not feeling so rushed and impulsive. It was uncharacteristic. He was not a patient man, true, but he wouldn't do to make her think he was a brutish thing.

But she curled against him and he settled, a heavy sigh. It was far more than he could explain. Not only a physical release but mentally to rest with someone by him. She was chilled despite the activities, but she seemed to soak warmth, and with his body heat so high, she likely would be one of the few that didn't find themselves overheated by his presence. He was comfortable wrapped up with someone, even if that went against his normal paranoia. 

Vaguely, he wondered if he'd wake to the barrel of her gun, but he imagined this was new for both, and that neither had any ideas about harming the other at least when it came to the next day. He slept soundly with another body there, another soldier. It was pleasant, and he relished in the feeling of having someone to curl about and keep with him. He was tactile, almost alarmingly so when he was younger. The compulsion had been forcibly tamed when he was in the spotlight. His actions had to be careful, and sentimentality had its place, but showing a soft spot for curling up with a loved one was... less so. Laying here, however, he was comforted that he had something of that back.  

 


End file.
